Aristocrats in Foxholes
by Ember Nickel
Summary: Bail and Breha live to see the destruction of the Death Star-and their daughter's unusual choice of companions. [May the 4th 2019 treat for Ljparis.]


Bail Organa heaved a sigh. Some days it seemed as if the galaxy lurched from one conflict to another, and there would never be an end of keeping secrets, schemes within schemes, even from the ones he loved most.

"We're going to have to tell them eventually," Breha reminded him, rousing him from his ruminations.

"I know," said Bail. "But is this the right way?"

"We have many duties," she said. "There's Leia, and the Rebellion, and yes, there's Alderaan itself. It would be a dereliction of duty to stand by and watch a dishonorable man marry into the royal line—or mistreat our daughter."

"She's been captured and tortured by the Empire," Bail said. "We have no right to prevent her from taking her own risks."

Breha nodded. "If you want to call this off, that's fine. But let's not keep the poor captain waiting any longer than he already has."

There was no fixed point in a moving galaxy, but Breha was his lodestar. "We go forward."

Breha raised her voice slightly. "Send him in."

A few moments later, Han Solo entered, his jacket as beat-up as ever. "Afternoon, your majesties."

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with us," said Breha.

"Of course," said Solo. "But if you're here to hire me for another run through Imperial checkpoints, I'd like to be paid up front."

Bail laughed. "Your reputation is impressive, but I think we have our own transport secured. Feel free to take a seat."

Solo sat down. "What's the occasion?"

"Well," said Breha, "It's come to our attention that Princess Leia cares very deeply for you."

Solo bristled. "I flew into the Empire's fleet and against that Death Star for—for your crazy rebellion. If you don't trust me, say it to my face, but I won't stand for any...insinuating."

"We admire your skill and courage," Bail hastened to add, "as does she. I wanted to caution you, however, that there may come a time when she has to choose between her personal desires and the duties of her station."

"If she wants to cut ties, she can do it herself. I ain't exactly hard to spot around base, and she doesn't seem like the type to go hide behind some intermediary."

Breha laughed. "You're an astute judge, Captain. As we say, it's merely a precaution for the future."

"I'd like nothing better than for this war to wrap up so you heroes can be safe. But as it stands, you seem in it for the long haul. And, well—permission to speak freely?"

"Of course."

"Just between us, there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of eligible aristocrats in the foxholes, so Her Majesty ain't exactly spoiled for choice."

Bail and Breha exchanged a glance. The conversation was going well, if a bit briskly. "Captain, can you keep a secret?" Bail asked.

"You've seen my ship," Solo responded. "It's got more secret compartments than even I know what to do with."

"Impressive as that may be, I'm referring more to information than physical contraband."

"As I said. Speak up or drop the subject, don't dance around it like you're at some proper royal ball."

Bail smiled in spite of himself. "Very well. I find it highly unlikely it should come to this, but if we need to secure a treaty with the Empire, it might become...advantageous...for Leia to wed an Imperial scion."

Solo laughed. "I can't see that stabilizing anything, she'd blast any officer as soon as look at them."

"True," said Breha. "But even the Empire cannot account for all their leaders' pasts."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"Has Luke Skywalker told you anything about his family background?" Bail asked.

"Luke?" Solo repeated. "Er, his people were—farmers, right? From Tatooine. They, uh, they didn't make out so well with the Stormtroopers after those droids."

Bail nodded soberly. "Luke was raised by his aunt and uncle after his birth mother's death. His biological father, Anakin Skywalker, was once a great Jedi knight and protector of justice."

"Hang on," said Solo. "How do _you_ know all this?"

"Because I witnessed the birth of the Empire," Bail continued, "and the transformation of Anakin Skywalker into the twisted and ruthless Darth Vader."

Solo stared. "You're saying that the kid—that Skywalker is the son of _that_ monster?"

"You've seen how he flies," said Bail. "He has a great gift, but a gift that can be used for evil as well as good."

Solo paced, taking it in, then added a few choice expletives before asking "Does _he_ know?"

"No," Breha answered. "At the moment it would only put him in more danger, both from the Empire and his own impulses. If we need to negotiate with the Empire, best that we catch them by surprise."

"And you think Leia would just go along with this? Marry a starpilot with mystical powers in the hopes it will keep Vader off her back?"

"I expect she would agree of her own choice, if it seemed the best safeguard for some token of freedom," Breha said. "She may be an agent of the Alliance, but she was a princess first."

"All right, well. I still don't see what business this is of mine."

"None at the moment," said Bail. "As we said, only a precaution against getting your hopes up."

"You're the ones dreaming of peace and a republic and glowing swords working their magic," Solo pointed out. "I don't think I'm the one who's being too hopeful, here."

The Organas smiled. "In that case," said Breha, "I'm sure we'll cross paths soon."

* * *

Breha tracked Luke Skywalker down a month later. Force or no Force, he had thrown himself into the Rebellion and the formation of the new "Rogue Squadron." It still seemed a marvel that it had taken Galen Erso's daughter, an Imperial pilot, and a couple Guardians of the Whills to lead disillusioned rebels into a battle that might have turned the tide. But, Breha supposed, wars were won and lost by stranger individuals.

"Do you have a moment?" she asked.

"Of course!" he said. "Er, your Majesty."

"We're all rebels here," she said matter-of-factly. "You're friends with Captain Solo?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know how he's been doing, the last few days? I haven't seen him around."

"He's busy!" Luke laughed. "I know he has some debts to pay off so he's trying to get things in order, but I think he plans to stay. I'm glad; he's a wonderful pilot."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Breha. "He hasn't been different than usual, around you?"

"No. Is everything all right?"

"It's hard to say. Some of our reports say the occupation on Kashyyyk is increasing, and with his Wookiee friend, I'd understand if he was on edge. But we haven't gotten verification of that, just keeping our ears to the ground."

"He might want to go and fight, in that case," said Luke. "Should I let him know?"

"No need," said Breha. "We'll announce more formally if we hear more."

"Okay."

"Best of luck with your squadron," she said, pacing off.

A few hours later, she summarized the conversation for Bail. "Heartening news," she said. "He doesn't seem to think any less of Skywalker."

"Good news indeed," said Bail. "Maybe something will come of it, maybe not. But we certainly need to tell the twins before either of them starts getting all hormonal."

"Based on what I've heard from Chewbacca, It might be a bit late for that."

"What?!"

"Nothing serious! Just—the stresses of high-stakes situations."

Bail sighed. "And I once thought being a Senator in a sham republic would be the greatest of my responsibilities."


End file.
